


Such Great Heights

by kalalanekent



Series: Little Secrets AU [10]
Category: Superman (Christopher Reeve Movies), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2019-09-05 12:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16810705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalalanekent/pseuds/kalalanekent
Summary: Two attempts to trick Clark out of his secret down, one to go. On assignment in Niagara Falls, Lois has decided that enough is enough with the men in her life. Turnabout is fair play when you suspect a triangle for two.Establishes the series' canon for the events of Superman II, which in our case blends together both the Richard Lester edition and the Donner Cut.





	Such Great Heights

_If that woman had watched her son, after I specifically warned her, I wouldn’t have to worry about this now._ It wasn’t like to Clark to think so negatively of anyone else, but Lois was watching him again, that fierce newshound I’ll-find-you-out glint in her eyes. It was not a look he was used to having trained on him and it made him nervous in ways that very little in life did. Maybe avoiding her after the rescue hadn’t been the best idea. The moment he’d returned to her, she’d cut him off when he tried to come up with a feasible explanation, so now he could only wonder what scheme was running through her mind now.

Since they had left the more-crowded falls area and traveled down the boardwalk toward the Whirlpool Rapids Gorge, Lois had fallen silent and thoughtful. It was enough to make him hope that maybe she’d just leave things as they were. They meandered companionably along the boardwalk, hands again clasped. It was only when he stopped to look at a display of the watercraft that various daredevils had used to ride the treacherous whitewater rapids that Lois broke away. Again that gleam in her eyes, her smile devilish when she implied that he was keeping secrets from her. Yet she had a little bounce in her stride that meant she was on the chase. Not angry, not accusing, more intrigued. She was doing it again; trying to lull him into revealing more than he wanted to. And it was getting so that he didn’t want to hide from her. The urge to just have done with it was so tempting. Knowing he could easily break, Clark tried using his standard defense of not knowing what she was talking about, then nervously pushed up his glasses and tried to flee to the hotel.

“What’s your hurry, Superman?” Lois taunted behind him, and his heart seized.

He took a breath, knowing his shoulders had gone tense, knowing she had to have seen that. “Sorry?” he said, turning around.

“I gotta admit, y’know, your disguise is nearly perfect. You had _me_ fooled,” Lois said, rising from where she’d rested her elbows on one of the boats. “And I am nobody’s fool, believe me.”

Clark heard a warning tone in her voice on that last as she climbed onto the bench, and he slouched a little more, replying nervously, “Oh, no, of course not, Lois.” He moved toward her as she sat down on the railing itself – typical Lois, ignoring the park bench placed there for that exact purpose. “I mean, you just have an active imagination. You just get carried away sometimes.” The hurried line sounded forced to Clark’s own ears, but he couldn’t help nattering on as Lois’ hazel eyes told him she wasn’t buying it.

“Listen,” she cut in, as Clark turned his back to her, trying to figure out how to convince her she was wrong. “I’m so sure that you’re Superman, that I’m willing to bet my life on it.”

Clark’s spine went cold. “What?”

She just nodded. “Now if I’m right, you’ll turn into Superman. And if I’m wrong, you’ve got yourself one hell of a story.”

Her intentions were clear when she slipped off her jacket, eyes never leaving his. She couldn’t be doing this so soon after the fruit cart incident. Hadn’t that close call warned her against trying to force him to prove his identity? Maybe she meant to threaten to jump, hoping he would panic. But her hazel eyes, so often changing with her mood, seemed fixed and steady on one goal.

Chuckling nervously, Clark saw that Lois was still sitting there, rolling her eyes at him as he told her she’d almost had him convinced. Well, fine, he would call her bluff, and he started to walk away.

“Bye-bye baby,” Lois called jauntily, and he thought in dismay, _She never bluffs_. When he turned around, she was already in the water, calling for Superman.

All the information he’d read on the displays was _not_ helpful at the moment, Clark knowing that the rapids contained standing waves up to five feet high, that this gorge set the highest class standard for the eastern half of the continent, and that the water was moving at thirty miles per hour. He hurried along the boardwalk, keeping her in sight, trying to figure out how to save her without letting her find out the truth.

A dead tree and his heat vision provided Lois with a floating log to hold onto, but that was only a temporary solution. He had to get her out before she reached the whirlpool further down. She was a strong swimmer, not in any danger of drowning at the moment, and before he could figure out what to do she managed to get herself into an eddy where she could touch the bottom and climb out.

Clark hurried down to help her, and for the finishing touch, let himself fall sprawling into the water so that _she_ had to rescue _him_. The scathing disgust for the whole situation that her tone implied wounded him, but at least his secret was safe for another day.

…

In the shower, Lois let her self-disgust have free rein as the hot water boiled feeling back into her freezing skin. How could she have been so _stupid_? Jumped the gun and overplayed her hand. She felt like beating her head against the tile of the shower to jostle out anything else foolish that might be up there. No wonder Superman hadn’t shown up – he had to think she was out of her mind. The water was just a degree or two above freezing, and if the waves weren’t enough to crush her, the boulders could have easily done the job. What had seemed like brilliant solution had blown up in her face. Who knew she’d be so grateful for a branch that had landed right in her path and thankfully not on top of her…

Unable to help herself, her mind locked on that. Wait. A branch fell right in front of her? How coincidental was that, anyway? And Superman was right there just moments ago, why couldn’t he swing back by and grab her before she almost drowned? He hadn’t shown up when she leaped from the office window, either, and that was right in the middle of Metropolis.

Lois froze as her eyes widened, the water beating down on her skin unnoticed. Did she really think that Superman would turn such a blind eye to her peril? Of course not. Even if he didn’t have feelings for her, he claimed to be her friend. So what, then, was he doing while she was almost dying?

Saving her, unobtrusively. She’d felt as though she were slowing down toward the end of the fall from Perry’s office, but at the time Lois thought it was just the effect of seeing her death rushing up to meet her. And she didn’t see Clark leaning out of the window until after she landed. Somehow he’d slowed her fall, and somehow he’d arranged for the branch to land in the water right when she needed it.

A knowing, mischievous smile slowly curved her lips as she rinsed her hair. Oh, she’d get him – the third time’s the charm. Clark had gotten dried off while she scrambled into the shower, and then he’d left the room in a hurry. She hadn’t heard the door open to announce his return yet, so she lingered in the bathroom, fussing with her hair and making plans. Oh, yes, this time she had him. If it took every weapon in her arsenal, she’d have him.

 _Your dynamic eyes have attracted a secret admirer,_ her fortune cookie had read. Well, he wouldn’t have any secrets left when she got done with him.

…

Clark opened the door to be confronted by Lois wearing only a towel. Shocked, he tried to look anywhere but at her as he closed the door. Meanwhile, she sat down at the vanity as if this were nothing unusual, breezily remarking that she hadn’t heard him knock.

“For goodness sake,” he exclaimed, “the door wasn’t even locked! Just anybody could walk in here.” It wasn’t like Lois to leave doors unlocked; she had lived in Metropolis too long.

“There you go, putting yourself down again,” Lois retorted offhandedly. She seemed more interested in her own reflection than in what he was saying.

“Oh, very funny,” he shot back.

“No, really, I’m serious,” Lois replied, still in those dismissive tones.

Clark stared at her, aghast. She was never like this – she might taunt or harass him, but she was never disdainfully cruel. Perhaps it was because she’d embarrassed herself earlier, leaping into the rapids. It wounded him to make her feel silly, but he couldn’t let her learn the truth. And he _had_ to discourage her from any more near-suicidal attempts.

Perhaps the best way to do that was to shake her up a little. He couldn’t often do that, but if he played his cards right, maybe he could get her off the track of his alter ego _and_ get out of the kissing contest later tonight, the one _she_ insisted they attend. _Your dream will come true when you least expect it,_ he thought ruefully. He’d certainly never expected to kiss Lois for the first time in a room full of strangers, but he was going to work to make sure this particular fortune didn’t come true.

Clark had never spoken openly about his feelings for Lois. If anything could shock her out of the mood she was in, that might do it. He rambled around the topic before finally saying he was beginning to feel a bit like a newlywed.

“A newlywed? You?” Lois actually turned away from her mirror.

“I don’t see why that should be so strange,” Clark huffed, and he didn’t have to fake his indignation.

At last, Lois seemed to realize how cold she’d been. “Oh, I’m sorry, Clark. Really, I didn’t mean that.” He smiled in relief, but then Lois continued, “I mean, I’m sure there’s thousands of girls who’d … well, a few girls anyway.”

Now that was downright nasty, and he was both annoyed at her casual cruelty and secretly relieved. An argument would keep them out of the ridiculous contest, anyway. “Go ahead and say it,” he told her angrily.

“Say what?”

“That somehow … you’re not satisfied being here with me, hmm? That in some way, I don’t seem to, um, shape up very well, in your eyes.” He sat down, surprised at the vehemence in his own voice. Maybe he’d been more sincere than he’d realized in hoping Lois would regard Clark as more than a friend. Which was patently ridiculous – the sort of girl who would fall head over heels for a hero wouldn’t give the time of day to a man whose entire personality was a carefully-crafted disguise, meant to be the complete opposite of that hero.

She almost seemed to ignore him for a second, which stung more than Clark wanted to admit. “Well, darn it, I don’t have anything to apologize for,” he said, his voice growing more heated. “I’m a good reporter – no, I’m a _very_ good reporter, and an even better friend to you.”

Lois, who had been applying her lipstick and seemingly ignoring him, swiveled in her seat to face him. “Stand up,” she said in a tone that brooked no opposition.

“Stand up?” he asked, puzzled. Where was she going with this?

“Yeah, stand up, just for fun.” That breezy, too-casual note was back in her voice, and Clark began to suspect that she was forcing herself to keep some emotion out of her tone. When he rose reluctantly, she pulled him over in front of the vanity mirror. “Now c’mere, look at yourself. Just look at yourself.”

Clark closed his eyes. This was _not_ going to be good.

“What we have here,” Lois proclaimed, “is a potentially aggressive, dynamite guy who can do anything he wants.” She said it as if she expected Clark – the original Mr. Milquetoast – to suddenly manifest the same willful determination that had always been _her_ hallmark. Clark couldn’t help chuckling at that wild notion. Lois went on to add, “I mean, it’s not my fault you keep putting yourself down.”

After the remark about ‘a _few_ girls, anyway’ just moments ago, she couldn’t even pretend to claim innocence. Hoping to throw her off whatever track she was on, Clark replied with an edge to his voice, “Oh yeah? How?”

It didn’t seem to faze Lois. She looked up at him, utterly unconcerned by the fact that she was still wearing just a _towel_ , and started in. “Well, for starters, you slouch all the time. Here, stand up straight.” She unceremoniously grabbed his arm, turned him toward the mirror, and yanked his shoulders back to forcibly straighten his posture. Clark flinched, unnerved by her hands on him, and why was he the only one worried about that towel slipping off?

“There, that’s better,” Lois said, as if she hadn’t just defeated one of the primary parts of his disguise. With his back straight, it was obvious that he was a head taller than she was, something he took pains to hide. “And get yourself a jacket with a vent, and some shoes that don’t lace up, and a shirt with a little color or a pattern or something.” He shied back from her touch as she waved her hands around his shirt; he couldn’t let her feel the toned muscle she’d so often leaned her cheek against when they flew. While she was distracted, he started to slouch again, hoping she hadn’t noticed the height difference.

As he fussed with the shirt, Lois added in an undertone, “And a bow tie that doesn’t look like a letter opener…”

That set Clark’s already anxious nerves on edge. “All right, Lois, all right,” he snapped. She clasped her hands and looked up at him attentively, as if his angry voice revealed something fascinating. “Now, we’ve been through all this before, haven’t we?”

“Yes.” Lois chose that moment to prop her foot up and paint her toenails. Her nonchalance aggravated him, even as the amount of leg she was casually baring unsettled him, and Clark began to stammer.

“I-I know where this is all leading to, um…” He kept trying to tear his eyes away from her leg, but his gaze kept returning like a compass needle to true north. “And I’m sorry. I mean, I’m … I’m sorry. But no matter how hard I try I just…” She leaned back from her work with a noncommittal sound, seemingly unaware that she’d just put both leg and cleavage into his line of sight. Glancing away and shoving his hands in his pockets, he managed to stumble on, “Just … just never will be _him_.”

“Him who?” Lois asked lightly, not even looking up.

That only irritated him more. “’Him who’? Him Superman.” Clark all but spat the last word, leaning toward her, and a part of his mind was impressed by his acting. Perhaps it wasn’t as much of an act as he thought. As much as it gave him a headache to consider that one of his alter egos might be jealous of the other, where Lois was concerned, he had always tended toward irrationality.

“Oh,” Lois said, avoiding his eyes.

“Now, I can’t help the fact that you seem to think that you love him,” Clark said, pacing. “That’s something I’ll have to live with. But darn it Lois, now that’s _enough_ now.” He heard the vehemence in his own voice. This wasn’t an act; at least part of him was angry at Lois for ignoring Clark, who practically worshipped her, in favor of Superman. But what woman could possibly see that the courageous superhero and the mild-mannered reporter were the same man?

Lois, meanwhile, was applying perfume to her chest, giving him a single cool glance, and he sighed. “Maybe I just can’t stand the competition anymore.” Maybe he’d been waiting all his life for someone to realize that neither Clark nor Superman was the whole truth of who he was – both were disguises. Superman projected more confidence than he’d ever felt, and Clark was far shyer than he really was. Both sides of his persona were constructed to fit the circumstances, and it was only Clark’s bad luck that the two were entangling over the same woman – this woman, whose enrapturing hazel eyes were shuttered as she leaned her chin on her hands and stared at him.

Her voice was low and almost husky when she replied, “And just maybe you’ve _been_ the competition all along.”

Clark felt his heart freeze. She was still on the hunt – that remark about slouching had forced him to show her his true height, and all the business with flashing her legs had been to unsettle him. Trying for nonchalance, he told her, “Lois, I’ve never been particularly good at riddles.” He felt his mouth settle into angry lines, knowing she’d backed him into a corner.

“Lemme make this one really easy for you,” Lois said, and it was her triumphant reporter voice interrogating him. Oh God, was she chasing a _story_ here? Was that what all of it came down to, the story of the century, _Superman Revealed_? “Why, with thousands of children potentially falling off something lethal all around the world, would Superman be in Niagara Falls today? Why not the Grand Canyon?”

“Why don’t you ask the child’s family, I’m sure they would know,” Clark retorted, trying to fob her off. She was really onto him this time, and he had no idea what madness she’d try to prove her point.

“And why is it always when I’m with you?” she shot back, and his heart fell. But what else could he have done? “Until Superman appears, and then you disappear. Very conveniently, it seems to me.”

Clark tried to protest; _she_ was the one who’d sent him out after hot dogs, after all. But Lois was having none of it. She was starting to smile, the grin that congressmen and criminals had learned to fear. She cut him off mid-sentence with, “And when Superman appeared, I looked over at that hot dog stand, and you were gone. You weren’t there.”

“I was…” he stammered, trying to think.

“Nowhere,” she cut in confidently.

Stuttering, he tried to pretend he’d gone to the men’s room, but he knew he was losing. Mad Dog Lane wouldn’t be put off by any more glib excuses, and he grieved to see that predatory light in her eyes. After as many times as he’d saved her, as often as he’d protected her, as much as he’d held himself back to keep her safe from the havoc that being Superman’s beloved would cause, he could hardly believe it would come down to a _story_.

“You are Superman, aren’t you?” she said, and he knew that triumphant grin.

He managed, somehow, to laugh, though it sounded forced even to him. “Lois, look, we’ve been through these hallucinations of yours before. Can’t you see what you almost did? Throwing yourself off a building sixty stories high – and then into the rapids beneath Niagara Falls?” She had gone wide-eyed, watching him with just the slightest nod, and he heard her heart rate speed up. “Can’t you see what a tragic mistake you almost made?” Lois took a deep, deep breath, and for a moment he let himself believe he’d convinced her not to pursue this anymore.

He should have known better. “I made a mistake,” Lois admitted. “I made a mistake because … I risked my life instead of yours.” And then he was staring down the barrel of her Ladysmith, Lois’ finger on the trigger.

…

Lois was both excited as hell and scared to death. Once and for all, she’d have her answer, and either way it would change her life completely. Either Clark, her devoted follower, was also the hero who swept her off her feet … or she was a complete lunatic who was about to severely damage her best friend’s trust.

The terror on his face was real. Clark knew the gun; it was a model she’d picked out on police recommendation, built for maximum stopping power. He also knew Lois’ proficiency with it, as she had to have marksmanship to earn a permit to carry a concealed weapon. Evidently he hadn’t known she’d packed the gun for this trip, but then, Lois took it everywhere. She didn’t have this in mind when they came to Niagara, hadn’t expected any trouble here, but the gun went wherever she did.

“Lois, d-don’t be insane.” Clark backed away, his eyes almost comically wide, and she prayed she was right. Not only because the tension of not knowing the truth had been driving her to distraction, but mostly because if she was right, he might forgive her.

And don’t fall down, ‘cause you’re just gonna have to get up again,” she said sternly over his protests, forcing herself to go through with it.

“Lois, now d-don’t be crazy now,” Clark practically yelped, and she steeled herself. _Just do it already!_ She closed her eyes as he yelled her name, and squeezed the trigger.

The revolver was shockingly loud in the hotel room, but Clark didn’t fall to the floor. He drew himself to his full height and _glared_ at her. Her jaw dropped as she stared at him, eyes wide. He sighed, still giving her the full weight of his furious stare.

Lois finally managed to whisper, “It is you,” as the whole world seemed to shift beneath her feet, and she was very glad she was already sitting down. _Oh, and by the way, you just_ _ **shot**_ _the man you’re in love with._

He took off his glasses, and everything about him was different, from his stance to the set of his shoulders to the expression on his face. _Superman_. “I guess I’ve known this for the longest time,” Lois managed to say. Was that why she’d felt so comfortable with Superman, so safe in the arms of a man who could bend steel in his bare hands?

When he spoke, the timbre of his voice had changed. “You realize of course, if you’d been wrong, Clark Kent would have been killed.” He’d started out resigned, but by the end he was angry again, and she supposed he had a right to be. From his end of things, it looked as if she was willing to sacrifice her best friend’s life to learn the truth.

He didn’t know her as well as he thought, then. Lois suppressed a chuckle; she also carried a pocket knife at all times, and it had been swift work to pry the lead bullet from her revolver cartridge, replacing it with a harmless cotton ball to hold the powder in. All she’d had to do after that was lurk in the bathroom, wearing only a towel, until he walked in. She’d even had time to blow-dry her hair and put it up while she waited.

While he glared, she grinned. “With a blank?” The laughter she wouldn’t voice danced in her eyes, and he winced as he realized the bullet had never struck him. “Gotcha,” Lois said, as he sat down with a defeated sigh.

The victorious grin faded as he continued to stare at the floor. Here was the man she loved, the man who’d made such a determined effort to keep her from finding out the truth, and he’d just fallen to a cruel trick of hers. “I’m sorry,” she whispered huskily, pleading for him to understand. “I couldn’t stand the tension anymore.”

“No, you don’t have anything to be sorry about,” he said, but his eyes when he raised them to her were bleak. What was he thinking? What was going through that amazing mind of his? His voice was resigned as he continued, “We’d better talk.”

“I’m in love with you,” Lois blurted out, and he looked frankly amazed. Hadn’t he guessed it before? Apparently not, though his feelings for her were obvious in his expression. What other reason could she have had for doing everything she’d done, leaping off buildings and boardwalks until she had to shoot him to get the truth?

She remembered his fortune then, _Your dreams will come true when you least expect it._ Well, yes, that was probably the _last_ thing anyone would expect, to find their love requited moments after the person they loved _shot_ at them.

…

Just when his heart had sunk the lowest, when he was prepared to try and convince her that she couldn’t expose his identity and destroy everything he’d worked for, she shocked him with her declaration of love. So _that_ was why she’d gone to such lengths, and he felt foolish for having thought her so mercenary. He knew better; no one could be as vehemently anti-marriage as Lois without having a secret, easily-wounded romantic side buried beneath all the cynicism.

“Well, we really better talk,” he managed to say, his smile growing wider.

Lois grinned, almost whispering, “I’m listening.”

He wanted to laugh with relief. His dilemma was solved; he hadn’t had to tell her the truth, she was stubborn enough to find it out on her own. In the joy of it, he went to her, catching her outstretched hands and pulling her to her feet for a kiss, the first real kiss between them. “I guess your secret admirer isn’t so secret anymore,” he told her, kissing her hair.

“Mmm, but both of our dreams came true,” she replied. “Not bad for fortune cookies.” Neither of them wanted to step back, too caught up in the magic of simply being together, holding each other, at last.

“We can’t stay here,” he murmured. “Perry will be calling … and someone will have heard the gunshot. I’m surprised no one’s called the police.”

Lois turned and kissed his jaw, his cheek. “Where do you want to go?”

He leaned back from her slightly. “Let’s go to my place,” Kal-El whispered.


End file.
